The Awareness Center closed. We operated from April 30, 1999 - April 30, 2014. This site is being provided for educational & historical purposes.
We were the international Jewish Coalition Against Sexual Abuse/Assault (JCASA); and were dedicated to ending sexual violence in Jewish communities globally. We did our best to operate as the make a wish foundation for Jewish survivors of sex crimes. In the past we offered a clearinghouse of information, resources, support and advocacy.

Monday, February 26, 2007

When I first created The Awareness Center I was inundated by calls from women from all over the world, who disclosed that they were sexually abused by Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach . I also want to mention that these calls came right before his Yahrzeit.

The callers often described the internal pain they felt each year that their synagogues were having a special Carlebach Minyon in his honor. Several women disclosed that they quit being religious, quit going to shul. A few even converted to other faiths as a result of being sexually victimized by Carlebach.

I am from an unaffiliated background. I'll be honest with you, when the calls first started I had never heard of Shlomo Carlebach. I ended up asking various rabbis for background information on him.

I was told that Shlomo Carlebach was an artist . . . a musician. . . someone who was responsible for bring hundreds if not thousands back to Judaism.

Due to the number of neshema's (Jewish souls) he saved it was enough reason for him to deserved to be respected. These same rabbis all acknowledge that Shlomo Carlebach had a little problem with loving women a little too much.

When asked what that meant, I was told "boys will be boys -- you know how musicians are, etc." Basically many were giving him an excuse for practicing clergy sexual abuse (professional sexual misconduct).

Finally one rabbi said something that I believe explains the reason for the volume of calls.

"Vicki, you have to understand some of the facts. Shlomo traveled a great deal, he was a Kiruv worker (Jewish outreach worker). Let's say Shlomo was "with" one woman a week -- times that by forty years. So basically that would mean he would have been with 2,160 women."

"The problem is that Shlomo most likely had a sex addiction. Knowing Shlomo the odds are he was with at least one or two woman a day; that would mean he was with over 14,600 women."

I have no idea if this rabbi statement was correct, yet I do know that over the last five years I've gotten more calls from survivors of Shlomo Carlebach, then any other one alleged or convicted sex offender.

Each and every one of the women who have been sexually violated by Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach have a right to have their voices heard. For that reason I am sharing Ariela's story with you. Please note there is no way to verify her words, yet they are consistent with what others have shared.

Sunday, February 25, 2007

Convicted of sexual abuse in the first degree and sodomy in the second degree with an eleven-year-old boy._________________________________________________________________________________Disclaimer: Inclusion in this website does not constitute a recommendation or endorsement. Individuals must decide for themselves if the resources meet their own personal needs.

(Please note: a conviction for an attempt is generally punishable at one grade below the classification of the crime attempted, i.e., a rape 2nd degree is punishable as a class D felony while an attempted rape 2nd degree is punishable as a class E felony.)

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We believe this constitutes a 'fair use' of any such copyrighted material as provided for in section 107 of the US Copyright Law. In accordance with Title 17 U.S.C. Section 107, the material on this site is distributed without profit to those who have expressed a prior interest in receiving the included information for research and educational purposes.

For more information go to: http://www.law.cornell.edu/uscode/17/107.shtml . If you wish to use copyrighted material from this update for purposes of your own that go beyond 'fair use', you must obtain permission from the copyright owner.

Saturday, February 24, 2007

It was a warm summer afternoon in 1974 and I was out in the back yard playing baseball with my brother when my mom called out, "Phone call, Ariela Hurry! It's a rabbi in New York!"

I raced inside, my heart pounding. A long distance call for me? A rabbi? Wow! Maybe it’s a response to my letter! When I heard a voice say, "Hello Ariela, this is Shlomo Carlebach".

I was filled with immense joy. My letter had not only reached him - a great rabbi, teacher, and musician - but he had read it, and been motivated to pick up the phone and call me, a lonely sixteen-year old searching for spiritual sustenance.

I had felt alone with my religious thoughts and feelings until the day a few weeks before when I had read a full-page interview with Rabbi Carlebach in our local Jewish weekly. I was thrilled to read what Shlomo said about the spiritual hunger of young people. Deeply moved, I felt compelled to write to Rabbi Carlebach and thank him for all he had said in his interview. I told him that I was seeking, and that I had many questions. In my letter I said that I imagined Moses, Jesus, Buddha, Mohammed and other great spiritual teachers sharing a round-table in Heaven, discussing how best to help humanity. I had felt a little nervous writing that, but since he seemed to have such an open, loving heart I felt encouraged to be completely honest. And now he was telling me how special and wise I was! He asked me to introduce myself to him in person the next time he visited Vancouver. I looked forward to that. Maybe he could be my teacher, and I could come to know the Jewish faith deeply, and live it the way he did.

He was planning a concert with At this time, although I had been brought up in a Conservative Synagogue, I was going by myself to the Orthodox synagogue because I hoped there I would find people living Judaism with more ‘kevanah’. I told my peers at this synagogue about Shlomo’s call The Orthodox shul. Shlomo in the near future. "But be careful," my friends warned. "Shlomo is renowned for having many special female ‘friends’."

When he came to Vancouver I felt torn. I wanted to go up to him after the concert and tell him I was the ‘special and wise’ person who had sent him the letter; but I didn’t want to be duped by a man who was actually looking to satisfy his lust. So I stayed well back and observed him from afar. Yes, he clearly was hugging and kissing a lot of young women, and it made me uncomfortable. Disappointed, I chose not to say hello.

And so we didn’t meet in person until 1991. After high school I attended a Yeshiva for six months, and then married a non-Jew after my first year of college. I continued my spiritual search but to please my father I tried to raise my three children as Jews. My marriage was very unhappy, and at twenty-five I became a single mother. The week after my oldest child celebrated her Bat Mitzvah, Rabbi Carlebach gave a concert in the very same room in which her Bat Mitzvah had taken place. Invited to attend, I went expecting to enjoy his melodies, sing along, and share in the holy atmosphere he was so gifted in creating. During Shlomo’s concerts it seemed to me as if he broke down the walls between Heaven and earth, and made me feel as if we were singing at God’s throne, together with other beloved souls who loved God too.

Throughout the concert Rabbi Carlebach’s eyes often looked over at me and I knew he had noticed me. After the concert, as people filed past him on their way home, and he hugged them good-bye, he stopped me and asked me if we had met before. I explained that although we had never met, he had phoned me after receiving a letter from me when I was sixteen. "And how is it that we have not stayed in touch all these years?" he asked me.

He told me that we must keep in touch this time, that we needed to talk, and he asked for my phone number. I had not heard any rumors about Shlomo in the years since the last concert I attended. I was still hoping to feel at home in the Jewish community, and still filled with questions. So, hopeful that maybe now I had found my teacher, I gave him my number.

Very late that night, I was awakened by a call. I was stunned to hear Shlomo’s voice, "Could you meet me for breakfast at my hotel in the morning?" he asked. I told him that I had heard rumors about him and women. I told him that I was seeking a place for myself in Judaism, and that I would love to learn from him. I asked him if he understood that I only wanted to meet with him for those reasons, and he said he did.

I felt a lot like I had after my phone call from him seventeen years earlier, and in many ways I was still the same person: lonely, hopeful, yearning for God, eager to learn how best to serve Him, excited to have others to share the journey Home with, and excited to have a spiritual community. So excited I couldn’t sleep

I remember the beautiful sunny morning and the long bus ride to his hotel. When I got there he wasn’t in the lobby, and upon calling his room to let him know I was there, he asked me to come up to his room. Somewhat frightened, but ever hopeful, I went up and he immediately took me in his arms and french-kissed me. I felt disgusted and disappointed, but rather than simply leaving, I begged him to go back down to the lobby restaurant so we could talk over breakfast.

It is very hard in retrospect to admit to my foolish and incredibly naïve behaviour. It seems that my capacity for hope overrode my ability to believe what was happening. From my own past experiences I have learned to blot out parts of the picture that are too painful, and focus on that which is good. Life is so filled with pain that this is a common coping mechanism. I wanted someone to help me feel close to God. I wanted this very badly. And Shlomo was clearly close to God. His sexual impulses were, to my way of thinking, immoral, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have his gifts. He had incredible gifts: to make melodies, to sing, to touch hearts. But Shlomo needed help to overcome his addictions. The real tragedy to my mind is that his world-wide Jewish community didn’t hold him accountable for his sex addictions.

Shlomo went down to the restaurant with me but all his sparkle was gone. He had no words of encouragement or wisdom for me. He seemed tired and lonely; remote. I left disappointed once again.

And then the phone calls started. They were about every few weeks, sometimes more frequent and sometimes less. He called from all over the U.S.A, Israel, and South America. The calls were always past midnight, and roused me from deep sleep. He spoke about his sexual attraction to me, and asked me intimate questions about what I was wearing. He spoke about the exotic places he visited and how he’d like to be there with me. His breathing was heavy and labored. The scenario he described which disturbed me the most was when he talked about taking me naked into the mikvah in his community in Israel.

Why didn’t I get angry or hang up? It was the middle of the night and I was fuzzy-headed. I felt uncertain of my own clarity of mind. He kept telling me how special and incredibly spiritual I was and I wanted to believe him. He said he loved me, and he talked often about our getting married. I was lonely and wanted to believe that it was true: that I was special and wise and therefore able to help him mend his ways. Maybe we could be a wonderful, spiritual couple, I thought. I sent him many long loving letters to New York and to his Moshav in Israel. I always expected him to write back, but he never did. I told him over and over again that I needed him to teach me about Judaism. I told him that I needed to be in love with Judaism the way he was. I told him that after years of searching I still felt that I didn’t belong, and I was on the verge of giving up. I told him I was getting attracted to Christianity and that I was even considering being baptized. He said nothing to dissuade me nor did he ever offer me a teaching about Judaism. In fact, since he often spoke of marriage, we laughed about the idea of a rabbi marrying a Christian woman.

I invited Shlomo to stay with me in my home when he next came to Vancouver to give a concert. I told my children that we might have a rabbi staying with us. But when he came to Vancouver he never called or tried to see me. He avoided me, and didn’t even catch my eye at his concert. Finally I knew his love wasn’t sincere, and something was very wrong. I met another Jewish woman who had received similar calls to mine. I spoke to him about it the next time he called. "You need to make amends before you die. It’s not too late to own up to your problems and get help," I told him. He said he agreed with me; that I was right, he did need to do something before it was too late.

I don’t know if Shlomo made any amends to any of the people he hurt. I don’t know how it stands between him and God today. But I do know that the Jewish community let him down, and let down all those whom he hurt. They enabled his sickness to perpetuate itself because he was never called to account. And because of the blind eye that the Jewish community chooses to cast on Shlomo’s sins they choose to ignore those who were hurt, undermine their pain, and isolate them on the fringes.

I said earlier that because of my own suffering I had learned to blot out the truth and focus only on the good. It is a coping mechanism, but it is not living in the real world. The Jewish family has known tremendous suffering, and maybe they have collectively learned to blot out a truth which hurts, which is that Shlomo sexually exploited women. After much therapy I have learned not to blot out the truth, but to see it and let it guide me to good, healthy choices. If I knew then what I know now, I wouldn’t have given Shlomo my phone number, or gone to his hotel room, or taken his calls in the night. I wouldn’t have written him letters or believed him when he spoke of marriage. I would have been safe from harm.

I made appointments to see two rabbis about what Shlomo did: one through my sister because she wanted me to get some healing, and one through a friend for the same reason. One rabbi thought it wasn’t very significant. The other was more sympathetic and told me he wouldn’t attend a Carlebach concert anymore. I wrote about what had happened to me and sent an article to the same local Jewish paper in which I had first read his interview. They didn’t want to publicize my experience. Even a woman I shared with at the synagogue I sometimes attended told me to let it go and concentrate on all the good Shlomo had done.

To this day I am very sad that Shlomo wasn’t compelled to offer me any encouragement in my spiritual quest to find my niche within Judaism. It is often said that he would do anything to save one Jewish soul, but he did nothing to save mine. I have been a practising Christian for the past ten years and one thing that comforts me in my church is that when a minister or priest is caught being abusive, the abuse is brought to light and the abuser is held responsible for what he has done.

Reconciliation is only available to those hurt by Shlomo, if Shlomo’s community: the Jewish community, opens their ears to hear the truth. They must find the courage to remove their blinders, and apologize for having needed to believe in Shlomo more than they needed to stand in truth before God.

Friday, February 23, 2007

The yeshiva administrator. Steve was 13. (Case of Yosef Meystel)The attorney. Steve was 15.(Case of
Brad
Hames)Today, Steve is 25. He graduated recently
from Towson University with a degree in science. He is awaiting response
to graduate school applications.Steve is from an Orthodox family of eight
children. He is no longer observant. Still, he remains close to his
parents and siblings. He was a student at a Baltimore-area yeshiva and
then a yeshiva high school in the Midwest.But along the way, everything went so very wrong.Steve still makes his home in the Orthodox
community here in Baltimore. He was one of the disenfranchised teens who
hung out over on the corner of Strathmore and Park Heights avenues.
People grouped him and the others as "reject" kids. They had, the
community said, "Fallen off the derech," fallen off the righteous path."I was probably taking more trips to the principal's office than most kids, because I liked to joke around," he remembered.His fifth-grade rabbi held a summer camp
for the boys. The highlight of the summer was an overnight camping trip
to Glyndon. Steve remembers a barbecue, baseball and swimming.It was an experience that was supposed to
be fun. It should have been memorable. Instead, it started a process
that Steve wishes he could forget.That night, Steve and the friends in his
tent just couldn't fall asleep and were talking. This is what children
do when there's the excitement of camping, sleeping outside in tents on a
summer night.The cackling and giggling of the children
drew attention, not from the rabbi but from his teenage son, who was
acting as a chaperone on the trip. He told the boys to stop the noise.
Finally, he told them to come to his tent."Shmuel Zev called us to his tent," said
Steve. "He told us to lay down, and he started telling us stories. I
noticed a hand where it shouldn't have been. It was weird."Shmuel Zev Juravel, the rabbi's son, was fondling Steve."I knew something wasn't right, and I
reacted, but he told me to be quiet or 'My father will hear you.' But I
remember that one of the other kids started to laugh. Shmuel Zev was
switching off between the four of us underneath the blankets."Shmuel Zev apparently was known for this
sort of behavior. Steve learned from others that he wasn't the first,
nor would he be the last.It wouldn't be the last experience for Steve, as well.Shmuel Zev, now 30, is in federal prison,
serving 21 years after he pleaded guilty to traveling to Alabama to have
sex with two young boys. Juravel, an insurance salesman in Savannah,
Ga., admitted to three counts of traveling to have sex with a child and
the use of the Internet to entice a child to engage in illegal sexual
acts.He was arrested by the FBI and U.S. Postal
Inspection Service agents about a year ago at a Birmingham, Ala., hotel
after he arranged to have sex with people he believed were to be 11- and
12-year-old boys. Juravel admitted using the Internet "to attempt to
persuade, induce and entice boys to meet him for sex."Juravel gained the attention of federal
agents when he responded to an online advertisement for "rare and
hard-to-find escort services," according to the U.S. District Court in
Savannah. The ad was posted on the Internet by an undercover agent.
Juravel requested 11- to 14-year-old boys for sex and child pornography
DVDs, according to a government affidavit. According to newspaper
accounts, Juravel mailed cash to a post office box in Birmingham and
specified the child he wanted, along with another boy "on standby."He arrived in Birmingham on Feb. 21, 2006, to find federal agents waiting for him.News of his arrest didn't take long to
spread, but it took Steve by surprise. He wasn't sure exactly how he
would or could handle it."When I first heard he was caught, it put a
fire underneath of me," said Steve. "When his story came out, it gave
me a weird feeling. I felt as if I could have done more to prevent him
from molesting other children. You know, the human mind is amazing, that
someone could take this sort of action out on a child."Shmuel Zev was, as Steve described it, "only the beginning of his experiences with people like this."Like many Baltimore yeshiva boys, Steve
went out of town to a high school yeshiva. His parents sent him to a
major school in the central part of the country.It would be good for him to get a fresh
start and meet new faces. Plus, Steve describes himself as extremely
neat and meticulous. It was important that the housing offered by any
school be neat and not cluttered. And most importantly, it had to be a
school that took secular courses seriously. His science, math, English
and history courses had to mean something. He wanted to go to college
one day.His first weeks there, Steve described
himself as being homesick. Nothing strange, especially for a 13-year-old
who had never really been away from home before. He had a need to call
home. There was a phone in a corridor, but that was way too public. He
was embarrassed to let any of his classmates see the tears associated
with homesickness. The only privacy he could have to speak to his
parents on the telephone was located in the yeshiva administrator's
room."He started befriending me," said Steve.
"He allowed me use of the phone in his room, which was located next to
the beis midrash [study hall] dorm. Once, I was using the phone in his
room to call home. He pulled out a porno magazine. It was shocking, it
didn't seem real."The "price" to use the telephone privately was his administrator's obsession with these magazines."This went on," Steve continued. "I needed
to use the phone to call my parents, and he'd be in the room with these
porno magazines. He then asked me if I would masturbate in front of him.
It was too much."Steve kept silent about the incidents,
about the request. He did feel harassed and coerced and confused. When
he returned to the yeshiva in 10th grade, the same administrator kept
offering him the explicit magazines.Steve was a consistent A and B student, but
now his grades started to drop. The administrator, he said, was now
offering him money to masturbate in front of him. When Steve refused,
the administrator grabbed him by the neck.He would go on to finally tell a friend who
would tell his father. Steve was told by the school's administration to
keep the incident quiet. The administration received the complaint
about its employee three days before parents' visiting day.Three days later, the administrator was fired. And Steve started to take personal steps backward from his Orthodox lifestyle."I was told by the rabbis that I was using this as an excuse to not be as religious as I should be," he said.When Steve learned that the administrator
was engaged to be married, he had his mother telephone the bride's
family to warn them. He was then called back into the office of the rosh
yeshiva, or dean, where he was screamed at for "threatening the
sanctity of marriage."Steve's yeshiva experience ended with
expletives directed at the rosh yeshiva and screamed so loudly that his
classmates heard them come from behind the rosh yeshiva's closed door.The administrator ended up on the staff of a
Chicago-area nursing home. Its management was under question by state
authorities for a number of reasons, including alleged sexual abuse
charges in 2005.The Chicago Sun Times reported that
something like 10 sex offenders were living at the nursing center.
Illinois also cited incidents in which residents were trading sex for
cigarettes, passing out from drinking, and wandering off and setting
fires inside the facility.Steve would come back to his parents' home
in Baltimore after the yeshiva experience. At first, he'd spend 18 hours
a day just sleeping. He contemplated suicide. On one occasion, what
kept him alive was simply hearing the happy voice of a younger little
sister. He did not want to hurt her or miss her growing up.But then came "the attorney." He was a
ba'al teshuva, a returnee to observance, who became involved in the
community, a guest of frum families in town for Shabbat lunches.By now, Steve was 15 and still in a
despondent state of mind. He and his family were introduced to the
bright, vivacious young man. Steve said the attorney could sense there
were issues, depression even. He would talk with the attorney, make
light conversation at the Shabbos table.The affable attorney invited Steve to go
rent a movie with him and then head out to a "sister's" apartment in
Columbia. The attorney rented the movie "Fargo." But when the movie was
over, he put a porno movie in the VCR. There was, by the way, no sister
in Columbia, Steve would later learn."I just started screaming," recalled Steve.
"I asked to be taken home. He freaked out, and told me he'd take me
right home, and he asked me not to tell anyone."You think you're climbing up a hill and you're about to emerge from it, and then there's a mudslide."Steve kept silent, but then while in the
neighborhood, he and a friend passed the attorney walking along Cross
Country Boulevard on a Shabbat afternoon. Steve's friend volunteered,
"There goes the child molester.""He told me that the guy did stuff to him. The guy was a guest in his house, like, every Shabbos."Steve and his friend did go to the rabbis,
and the attorney has since left the Baltimore area. There were never any
charges or disciplinary actions taken against the attorney.In a meeting with a rabbinic official,
Steve was told he should work hard in own personal life to be close to
the "kisse ha coved" (the throne of glory). Instead, Steve wanted to
kill the attorney who abused him. And for months, he and a friend would
trash his car or stand outside of his Cross Country Manor apartment and
yell expletives at his window."I thought sometimes that I had written on my forehead the words, 'Molest me.'"There is a way Steve describes these
incidents. He talked about how in a science class, he learned that a
cheetah can sprint swiftly at short distances, but could never keep up
with entire herds of gazelles, who can run at a quick rate for miles."But the cheetah," he said, "watches for
hours until he can pick out the gazelle who is lame, or the young who
can't find its mother. That's when it strikes."What also started to "strike" Steve was the
availability of drugs. He contends that an overwhelming number of his
friends or acquaintances who were victimized by sexual predators would
begin to self-medicate, be it with alcohol, marijuana, prescription
drugs, cocaine or even heroin.At 12-step meetings, he was overwhelmed by
the number of sexual molestation incidents he would hear as part of the
lives of those Jews in recovery. He was also, in a sense, relieved that
he wasn't the only Jewish person victimized.Steve smoked pot, but he said his priority
was getting an education. He would go on to attend the Community College
of Baltimore, earning his degree, and then attend Towson. He wants to
work in the sciences."There's a lot of sick people out there,"
he said of sexual predators. "These people are in all of this for
themselves. They do not care about anybody, about you or your mental
state when they violate you. It's so rampant. It's like the AIDS virus,
it's gone wildfire. For guys like me, there used to be a sanctity about
Judaism that prevented these things from happening. That sanctity is
gone. When it comes to religion, I might talk the talk, but I'll walk my
own walk."It "sickens" Steve to even walk into a
synagogue these days. He called the yeshiva system a "breeding ground
for sexual molestation."He said the best "therapy" he's had has
been to talk to other victims, or "survivors," as he calls them. There's
an anger, tears are in his eyes as he gets ready to say his next
comment, which simply is, "Nobody is ever going to hurt me again."He spends his days working as the office
manager of a medical facility. Many nights are spent in the gym, where
the strenuous exercise he puts himself through is often the best
therapy. He hopes to get his post-graduate education, and eventually
find the woman of his dreams and raise a family. And he wants to
continue doing what he can to make the issue of sexual molestation a
bigger part of the social conversation."A lot of people overlook this thing,
especially in the religious community," he said. "God forbid, we should
talk about it," he said in a mimicking way. "But these predators are
among us, and they are a danger to our children."What of now, what of the future? Steve said
he doesn't live through a day when he doesn't think about his abuse. He
added that in his life, he has met a lot of "good people" who are also
survivors.Does he believe in God any longer? He quickly answers yes, it's the system that he said lets him and other survivors down.In his discussion, he'll insert a word of
Torah, an expression of Hebrew here and there. It's the neshamah (soul)
of this young man speaking. He sees many Jews in terms of the biblical
description erev rav, or mixed multitudes."These are the people who gave us the story
of the egel, the golden calf," he said. "These are people who say they
are Jewish, dress like they are Jewish, but then go ahead and hide from
the reality of sexual abuse. It's like they think it will just go away,
or it would never happen in the Jewish community."If there is a hero in his life, he quickly points to his grandmother, who survived the Holocaust."When I think I've been through some bad
times, I try to pick up the phone and talk to her. She's in her 80s, and
I know if she's OK, then I know I'll be OK."His answer for the future is to educate the public."This is a big deal. It's like if you throw
a pebble in the water, it creates a ripple effect, that's how we have
to educate people about what we've been through."Steve's eyes are intense and he's staring off to the side."Considering what I have been through," he said. "I'm going to be OK."Steve's Dad"It's affected my wife and the entire
family, and it's been going on through years." Steve's dad is the child
of Holocaust survivors. Israeli born, he's survived two wars. Yet, he's
never seen such a struggle as the one his abused son has lived through.
"This isn't like a medical problem, you treat it and it's over," he
said. "This is a lifetime problem, and it takes a long time to recover
from sexual abuse."The family did approach an attorney and
Steve's yeshiva was questioned. But key evidence, said his dad, was
destroyed by the yeshiva administration, evidence that might have
resulted in charges against the former administrator. When reached on
his cell phone, the person at the Center of Steve's nightmare admitted
that he was the former administrator of the Midwest yeshiva. But when
given details of the former student's allegations against him, he
responded by saying, "I have no idea what you are talking about." He
hung up the phone. By press time, a call to the yeshiva president,
himself, was not returned.The yeshiva authorities, Steve's dad said,
ended up victimizing the victims of their administrator. And both he and
his wife suspect that their son hasn't told them everything, that the
abuse was much worse."I would never suspect something of this
nature existing in the religious community," said the dad. "I would
expect that the yeshivas would address these issues as soon as they
discover them. It appears that the people who abused my son were both
known to have these tendencies, yet they were kept in their positions.
But because I didn't suspect anything, I never exposed my kids to these
possibilities of abuse. Before kids go to yeshiva, I feel parents should
educate them about sex offenders."We read news accounts of Palestinian
terrorists who disguise themselves in the clothing of Orthodox Jews and
then they blow themselves up as suicide bombers," continued the dad."A person who wears the clothing of an
Orthodox Jew and molests another person is the same as that suicide
bomber, only he's killing the soul of a child."Why Is This A Big Deal?So Steve was touched on his penis, asked to masturbate in front of another man, and pressured to watch a porno movie.There are those who might scoff at the
notion that these acts constitute sexual molestation. They might also
ask why Steve simply can't "get over it" and move on with his life.
After all, the sexual molestation could have been a great deal worse.
Why is all of this such a big deal? Yet for Steve and survivors of
sexual molestation, these actions of abuse, no matter how major or
minor, impact them every day of their lives.Lisa Ferentz, a clinical social worker
based in Pikesville, and the creator of a certificate program in
Advanced Trauma Treatment, has spent years working with survivors of
sexual abuse. Ms. Ferentz believes that "we should never minimize acts
of sexual molestation because the experience profoundly affects a
child's fundamental sense of trust and safety in the world. Regardless
of what is attempted or done to a victim, it can lead to a deep sense of
loss. There is the loss of safety, innocence, appropriate boundaries,
protection, trust, physical and emotional safety. Having to keep the
abuse a secret exacerbates a sense of rage, shame and despair. This can
lead to a multitude of inevitable symptoms and problems as the survivor
develops. When the pain is overwhelming, many survivors attempt to
self-medicate with drugs and alcohol. The experience can be truly
life-altering."In addition, she said it is not unusual for a person to be repeatedly victimized, often by multiple perpetrators."When children are abused and threatened
into silence, they often exude a vulnerability, helplessness and despair
that resonates for perpetrators, making them potentially easy targets.
Pedophiles look for kids who are lacking in self-esteem, despondent or
passive. They tend to stay away from kids who appear to be confident,
happy and strong. They want to make sure their victim will not put up a
fight, and won't tell anyone afterward. Sadly, survivors are left asking
themselves, 'What am I doing to attract these people?' Although abuse
is never the victim's fault, this questioning begins a spiral of
self-blame, guilt and shame. And it decreases the survivor's ability to
advocate for safety in the future."Ms. Ferentz suggests that victims or
survivors start their journey toward healing by "finding someone they
can trust to disclose to: someone they know will absolutely believe
them. Therapy is an important tool toward recovery. With the proper
support and guidance, victims can truly survive and transcend their
abuse."

Thursday, February 22, 2007

If you are a survivors of
childhood sexual abuse who is considering to provide testimony at
legislative hearings please be aware of some the risks you may endure.

Please note that it is NOT mandatory that you sign the statement to
testify, it is simply a request that you read and fully understand the
risks involved in taking an active role in this legislative process.

In the past survivors who testified, shared a common experience -- the
feeling of DEVASTATION, was moderate to severe. While providing
testimony to make laws better is just and noble, yet it is also
important to be aware of the risks. We all need to have support people
in which we can debrief with immediately afterwards and the weeks or
months afterwards. Doing so can help elevate the degree of devastation
we may experience.

In
an effort to warn each and every person who is considering providing
testimony, it is suggested that you read and accept the statement below
before agreeing to testify. The choice is totally yours and there is no
expectation for you to publicly take a stand. There is the requirement
that you put your own personal needs first. It is vitally important for
you to take care of yourself!

I acknowledge that I or someone that I love was sexually abused, as a child.

I acknowledge that significant to severe trauma resulted because of
that abuse (to myself or my family member, friend, etc.).

My intention is to bring public awareness and attention to what has happened in the past.

I believe that by speaking publicly, my testimony will enable me to
seek some level of justice for my own personal victimization that I
experienced as a child and endured over a lifetime (or that of
someone I love).

I understand that providing testimony could result in me feeling re-traumatized/victimized.

I understand that there are very powerful opponents to this
legislation that have significant influence on legislators in
stealth like manner.

I
understand that no matter how wrong I feel they are, they still wield
influence that is secretive, very well financed and have been
historically successful in killing legislation to right this wrong
and to protect future generations of children. I understand this is
at the expense of current and future generations of children as well
as the re victimization of myself as a survivor.

I UNDERSTAND AND ACCEPT THE PERSONAL RISKS of feeling overwhelmed by sharing my abuse experiences.

I understand that I may feel angry, sad, depressed and re-victimized should this proposed legislation not pass.

I agree to have safe people in place to debrief with immediately
after providing my testimony and for the months to come. These safe
people can include other survivors, family members, friends and or a
therapist.

Above all else, I agree to put my own well being first.

With this understanding I still wish to testify in hopes of seeking
justice for what happened to me as a child (or my loved one) and most
important to ensure that I do what I can to protect future innocent
children from harm in the future.

Wednesday, February 07, 2007

Fifteen people were indicted as a result of Sharon's
undercover work as a 'Madam' in a whorehouse, but even so, her family was
outraged.

Today, three years after her unpaid eight-month stint
as a brothel proprietor, she still recalls not only the social stigma and
neighborhood harassment but her family's horror as well. "You can take my
picture, but please blur my personal details a little," she says. "I was
a pariah in the neighborhood where I lived. Even though the whorehouse itself
wasn't nearby, when the news got out, my neighbors were angry. They thought
I'd be bringing men home, into my own apartment. That was completely ridiculous,
but I don't want to live through all that again."

Her family was disgusted. "My sister is a social worker,
so I told her what I was doing," she recounts. "I thought she'd be supportive
of my desire to help these women, but when I told her, her face went white.
She refused to listen to another word. Even after all the indictments came
down, it remains a sore subject."

Sharon - not her real name - is 66 years old and looks
more like someone's grandma than a Madam. A graduate of one of the US's most
prestigious Ivy League law schools, she served in the US Department of Justice,
US Attorney's office, under Robert M. Morgenthau. She also holds a Masters
Degree in Tax Law. She made aliya in the late 1970s and is now studying for
another degree, this one in an offshoot of veterinary medicine.

All jokes about lawyers and whores aside, Sharon apparently
excelled in running a house of ill repute in Hadar, the old commercial center
of Haifa. "I loved the job," she admits. "I loved taking care of the girls,
and enjoyed the business. I'm happy to tell the story because so much
misinformation about prostitution exists, especially about the women themselves.
I'd like to see some serious reform, and maybe this will help."

So how does a nice, smart, honorable woman - once married,
no children - get involved in running a whorehouse? "The roots go back to
the US," she says. "I'd been reading about foreign immigrants - or maybe
emigrants - to Israel, and became interested in some of the legal issues
involved. I packed up and made aliya but once here in Israel, I floundered.
First, I was swept off my feet by a handsome Israeli guy, but the marriage
was a disaster. Then I was having trouble with Hebrew, so I finally took
a job as an English secretary. To practice law, you need both verbal and
the non-verbal language, and I was struggling."

She studied hard and finally qualified for legal practice
in Israel. "I was practicing law and teaching at one of the universities.
There was a prison nearby - it's now closed - where someone I knew was
incarcerated. He'd gotten involved in a real mess and because I had a legal
license, I was able to visit him more often than other friends. I'd go visit,
and while I was there, I met a lot of other people who were in prison. It
occurred to me that working with some of them might be a whole lot more
interesting than what I was doing."

On one visit, Sharon saw something she'd assumed didn't
exist anymore. "There were a number of people walking around rather freely.
They didn't look like either prisoners or criminals, but they certainly weren't
guards. Then I found out. Do you know Israel still has debtor's prisons?
People who can't pay their debts are jailed. And because the courts tend
to set the size of repayments according to the size of the debt - not the
size of the income - they end up in jail repeatedly, and obviously lose any
job they'd had. It also dragged in good-hearted people who'd co-signed loans
for others. Needless to say, most of these prisoners were way beyond broke,
and basically none of them had lawyers to protect their interests. I decided
that even though I wasn't really proficient in Hebrew, whatever I could do
was better than nothing, so I began volunteering to represent debtors. Then
came other clients, all sorts of crimes, including prostitutes. That was
the beginning."

Practicing criminal law carries a stigma all its own.
"It makes me laugh," she says with a giggle. "In my law school, no one would
have admitted to even thinking of practicing criminal law - that's worse
than ambulance chasing. But there I was, enjoying it."

Then the opportunity to be a Madam arose. "One of the
people I met was a police informant, a really bright guy," she says. "He
was trusted by both the criminals and the police. So one day he came to me
and said he needed to open and run a whorehouse in an attempt to catch some
of the people involved in the infamous 'trafficking in women' trade. Would
I consider being the Madam for the sting operation?

"I jumped at the chance. I'd represented a number of
prostitutes, and liked the idea of being able to help the women. I
agreed."

Sharon declined to comment on any of the legal issues
that evolved from the sting operation, except that the suspects were indeed
indicted with 'trafficking in women.' In any event, she added, she wasn't
involved. Her 'partner' was the one involved with the legal issues, and her
involvement was limited to running the brothel.

The whorehouse was located in a low-rent district,
in a four-bedroom apartment that had previously served as a house of ill
repute. "My partner set the whole thing up. He knew prostitutes, and put
the word out. He had no trouble finding the women to work - they were all
prostitutes already. We didn't corrupt anyone."

Most of the women were here illegally from Eastern
Europe. "They came from Romania, Kazakhstan and Russia, smuggled in over
the Egyptian border, although a few may have had tourist visas. The main
point to understand is, these women knew very well why they were coming to
Israel. If they didn't exactly relish the work, for them it was a chance
to earn pretty good money. On the whole, they'd do a lot better as prostitutes
in Israel than they'd do at any job they could get in their home countries.
One woman called both her mother and sister in Romania frequently, every
time encouraging them both to come to work in prostitution. Compared to life
there, they did well in Israel."

There was no compulsion, she notes. "They could leave,
get out of the business, anytime they wanted. That wasn't a problem. One
woman I really liked had worked in Holland as a prostitute, was imprisoned
in Turkey for prostitution, and now was here. Every week, either my partner
or I would go with her to the bank where she bought money orders to send
to her family in Romania. Both her parents were disabled, and she was their
sole support. Another woman had been a literature professor at a university
in Russia - she couldn't get a job. Another was very elegant, extremely well
dressed. She came because she could make a better living as a prostitute
here than there."

Most didn't resemble either Miss Kitty or Pretty Woman's
Julia Roberts. "There's a legion of myths about prostitutes. Ours had Russian
names - Tanya, Alisa, Nadya. Most were in their 20s and moderately attractive.
Many were overweight, a few even obese. When I was a kid, my mother used
to tell me that all prostitutes were lesbians and drug addicts, but that's
not true. Many had boyfriends or husbands, and several had children. Only
one was a drug addict - many used ecstasy, but only one was addicted and
I tried to get her into treatment. A few had problems with alcohol. They
were all heavy smokers. Most of the men smoked too, and sometimes the air
was blue with smoke."

It wasn't Matt Dillon or Richard Gere who came calling,
either. "We were in a low-rent district - no high-fliers. Our clients were
people from the neighborhood - cab drivers, truck drivers, men who worked
in the shuk. Lots of Arabs. In the mornings, we'd get men who worked at
night."

Sharon ran the whorehouse like a sorority. "The girls
could live there if they wanted. Or they could just come in when they wanted
to work. There was a kitchen, and we supplied food, medical care and abortions
if needed. I arranged for anonymous HIV testing for them, but only one woman
went - I think many of them lived in denial - the 'I always use a condom
except with my boyfriend' kind of thing. The girls were supposed to do the
cleaning but they didn't, so we had a woman come in occasionally. I answered
the phone. We advertised in the newspaper as an 'escort service,' but we'd
never have let the girls go out because then we couldn't protect them."

A typical day began in late morning. "I'd come in at
about 11:00 a.m. The girls would come in when they wished. Some men would
call first and I'd kind of flirt on the phone - which was fun. If they wanted
something special - a woman who didn't shave, or two women, or wanted some
unusual act - then I'd ask the girls who were there if anyone was interested
in accommodating the man. They didn't have to. They could work as much as
they wanted, perform whatever acts they wanted, refuse anyone they wished.
It's hard to say how many clients each would see in a day, but maybe 10 is
average. We insisted they use condoms, but didn't check to see if they did.
In terms of cost, Haifa is more expensive than Eilat or Tel Aviv - which
might indicate that there are fewer prostitutes in Haifa. We charged NIS
100 for the first 10 minutes, then more for 15 minutes or 20. The price went
down with more time -an hour wasn't NIS 200, for example."

"Basically it was very low key. The girls would hear
the knock on the door, and the man would come into the living room. If a
girl felt like it, she'd come out. Many of the men were regulars, so they
knew the women. They sit and talk awhile, relax. It was a very friendly place.
Then, at some point, the mood would arise, and they'd go off with one of
the women. She'd take him into her bedroom, they'd agree on how much time,
and what services. The man would pay the girl, and she'd bring the money
out to me, and tell me how much time. It was safer for me to hold the money
- all cash, no credit cards. Then she'd go back to the room. If they hadn't
come out when time was up, I'd knock on the door. Then the man would come
out, he could shower if he wished, and the woman could shower. Then she could
decide if she wanted to appear for the next client. At the end of the day,
we'd settle up with the girls, who got half - so if it was NIS 100, she'd
get 50, and I'd pay the VAT and all other expenses out of my NIS 50. I doubt
all whorehouses operate like that. We lost money during my term. But we paid
taxes - if we hadn't, we might have been okay."

The women were free to negotiate side deals as well.
"If a girl could get more than NIS 100 for her work, either for extra services
or a tip, that was perfectly okay. If the agreement was for 10 minutes, then
all I wanted was my NIS 50. If they could earn a good tip, good for
them."

Attire was up to the women, too. "They didn't wear
anything very much different than what you see on the streets, nowadays.
Sometimes a dress or skirt that was too low or too short, or too-tight pants.
They were advertising the merchandise, after all. Sometimes in the living
room they'd sit on a guy's lap, encourage him a little."

Was there security? A guard at the door? "No - which
probably contributed to the fact that we didn't need it. There's a lot of
testosterone in this business. If we'd had a big guard standing at the door,
we might have had more problems than we did. The truth is, most men are reluctant
to beat up a woman - and besides, they tend to value what they're paying
for. I was the only guard there, but it worked - I have a big mouth. I honestly
think I could be tougher than a man could, and get away with it. We never
had fights, never a stabbing. Before I came, there was a death in that whorehouse
- a man who'd taken viagra had a heart attack."

Frightening moments did occur. "One time a really enormous
guy came. He insisted that because he knew someone, he should be able to
see one of the women for free. I said no, I wasn't willing to waive my share,
and I wasn't going to ask a woman to waive hers. He started to threaten me,
became really unpleasant, but I just stood up to him, defied him, dared him
to do something, and he backed down. He didn't touch me."

A couple of times the police came. "One time the police
were called in by someone - I'm not sure who - but they said illegal women
were working as prostitutes, which was true, of course. So the police arrived
and one man decided to stand guard at the door, to prevent the women from
escaping. That was bad - the police took all the women downtown for questioning.
My partner finally got it all worked out, and everyone was released. At the
time, the women didn't know we were running an undercover operation - all
they knew was that we had a really excellent relationship with the police.
Later on, they knew because some of them testified in the court cases."

There were some awkward incidents, too. "A couple of
times, I'd open the door and find a man I knew standing there - maybe a former
client. That was awkward. One time, on a totally unrelated case, I went into
a different division of the police department to copy a file, and the woman
who worked there, with whom I'd had a very nice relationship before, was
very hostile to me. I asked her what the problem was. She said, 'I didn't
know you were running a whorehouse!' I couldn't tell her - we had to keep
it absolutely undercover. Another time at my home, I needed to hire a
handyman.

One guy came over, but when he saw me, he refused to
do the work. 'I know you - you run a whorehouse! I'm not going to take blood
money from you!'"

In the neighborhood itself, people were generally friendly.
"Some of the local business owners knew what we were doing, and had no problem
with it at all. One day we ran out of condoms. My partner usually bought
supplies, but that day, I had to go. I went to the shuk and walked around
asking, 'Do you sell condoms?' and finally found a guy who did. I told him
I wanted a whole box - like 50 condoms. He gave them to me, then said,'Do
you mind if I ask?' and made some remark about my age. So I said, "They're
not for me. I'm running a whorehouse.' He was just staggered. Then he gave
me a big smile and a thumbs-up. He wrote down our phone number and said he'd
spread the word."

The operation ended when the apartment building, which
had been in foreclosure, was vacated.

"Most likely the women went on to work elsewhere,"
Sharon says. "Some may have been sent home, others may have gone back
voluntarily, if they'd earned what they set out to earn. Others, I don't
know. It's not a business without risks."

In retrospect, how bad is the life of a prostitute?
"On the whole, it's probably more pleasant than doing drudge work in a factory,
standing on your feet all day. For many, it's better than working in one
of the chemical plants. Look at some of the places where people work in Haifa
- terrible conditions, fumes, caustic substances, hard work, long hours,
low pay. Many women would rather be prostitutes. One thing is for sure: I
won't sit in judgment on women who made this choice - their biggest mistake
was not being smart enough to choose parents like mine, who saw to it that
I had every advantage."

Would you do it again? "You bet," Sharon says with
a grin. "In a heartbeat. It was fascinating."

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Survivors ARE Heroes!

The Awareness Center believes ALL survivors of sex crimes should be given yellow ribbons to wear proudly.

Survivors of sexual violence (as adults and/or as a child) are just as deserving of a yellow ribbon as the men and women of our armed forces, who have been held captive as hostages or prisoners of war.

Survivors of sexual violence have been forced to learn how to survive, being held captive not by foreigners, but mostly by their own family members, teachers, camp counselors, coaches babysitters, rabbis, cantors or other trusted authority figures.

For these reasons ALL survivors of sexual violence should be seen as heroes!